Sierra-5 (A Leia-Black Widow-Hermione-Tauriel-Katniss Adventure)
by scriba vindex
Summary: The world is facing a dangerous new threat. Earth's last hope is a ragtag band of unlikely female allies- Princess Leia Organa, Natasha Romanoff, Hermione Granger, Tauriel of Middle-Earth, and Katniss Everdeen- brought together from across this world, this dimension, and this galaxy. These heroines need to save the world, and will definitely have fun doing it. ;)
1. Part 1- Leia

_Princess Leia Organa, Commander of the Rebellion and Alderaan Senator._

 _Eyes: Brown. Hair: Brown._

 _Five foot, one inches. One hundred fifty-five centimetres. One hundred eighteen pounds. Fifty-four kilograms._

 _Foot Size-_

Leia glared daggers at the mousy little woman behind the glass, who was reading private information from a slim electronic tablet. A faceless horde of suited men and women gathered behind mouse-face, gobbling up Leia's titles and measurements like vultures surrounding a carcass.

 _...Skilled in shooting and combat, diplomacy, and control of operations._

Leia's brain throbbed foggily, unable to process her situation. She felt restraint on her wrists, abdomen, and ankles, but not in a traditional metal shackle form. She was seated on an exceptionally uncomfortable metal throne. For the love of Alderaan, she couldn't seem to remember where she was nor anything that had happened recently; she only knew that she had woken up in this peculiar white room, alone and separated from her captors by a thick screen of glass.

She thought of Han, Luke, and Chewie, but couldn't seem to summon their faces to mind, or remember anything that had happened after the battle of Endor.

Leia wanted to scream and pull herself free of her restraints. She longed desperately to escape this horrible, unfamiliar place. She busied herself with trying to squeeze her left hand out from under the thin coils of light that bound her wrist to the throne's arm. Swearing quietly, she wriggled her wrist in a weak attempt at freedom.

She was interrupted mid-curse by a sudden swooshing sound. She didn't move her head, but glared up through her lashes at the left side of the room, where a large opening had appeared. Mouse-woman and a bushy-haired man with glasses stepped into the blinding light. The woman stopped at the door, still clutching her tablet device, but the man came forward to stand beside Leia's throne.

He cleared his throat, and spoke in a calm, guttural drawl. "Hello, your highness. I apologize for the harsh accommodation. If you promise to listen and cooperate, we can dispense with the restraint and bring you up to speed in a more civilized manner. I assure you, we will explain everything."

Leia said nothing, and bore the man a cold, unflinching stare.

He didn't seem to acknowledge her apprehension, and piped a quick exclamation of "Wonderful!", before proceeding to tap a device on his wrist, which dissolved Leia's bonds.

Gratefully, Leia stood, observing slight scorch marks on her wrists. She still maintained a hostile stance toward her company.

"Are you with the empire?" She growled quickly.

The man shook his head and smiled, seeming to exhibit a skip in his step as he turned to exit the white room. Unsure what to do next, Leia followed.

* * *

The mouse woman departed their company quickly, veering away down a dark hallway. That left Leia alone with the strange man, for a time. She contemplated whether it was possible to overwhelm him and attempt escape, but her fogginess and confusion prevented her from doing so. She had no idea where she was, after all. He led her silently through an unending complex of silent, empty hallways.

For the first time, Leia noted what she was wearing- an unfamiliar work suit-like number which was reminiscent of her uniform on Hoth, but in a dark grey. Her hair was done up in her signature crown braid, wrapping around her head demurely. However, the braid was tighter and more precise than she would typically have done herself in her rushed mornings back on base, therefore she concluded that it was the work of someone else's hands. _A strange thought._ Leia mused to herself. _While I was unconsciously bound to my throne, someone did my hair._

Eventually, Leia's ponderings were interrupted by her companion.

"So, your highness...do you have any idea where we are?"

"Not in the slightest." she muttered back unhappily.

"Well, we aren't on a spaceship, if that reassures you. We are, in fact, on a planet; the empire is not at all nearby."

Leia was reassured by that fact, but said nothing. She was still in the dark in terms of her captors' intentions. Good or bad, it was difficult to say with no information whatsoever to go on.

Leia and the glasses-man arrived at the foot of a tall metal staircase.

He stepped aside and gestured for her to ascend. "Everything will become clear after you speak to Paxton and Romanoff." He noted with a wink.

"May the force be with you!" he added excitedly as Leia ascended toward answers. She rolled her eyes.


	2. Part 2- Katniss

Katniss was insurmountably certain that this had to President Snow's doing.

The barren white room, the electric beam rope restraints, the blasted metal chair. All of it screamed _Snow_.

Katniss gritted her teeth- she had been in this situation a thousand times. The whole waking-up-with-your-memory-wiped thing was not new business. However, the general confusion of her imprisonment was overwhelming. Katniss was not certain whether to scream, or to cry.

 _Soldier Katniss Everdeen, the Mockingjay, Symbol of the Rebellion, Hunger Games Victor._

 _Eyes: Grey. Hair: Brown._

 _Five foot, nine inches. One hunded seventy-five centimetres. One hundred thirty-nine pounds. Sixty-three kilograms..._

Wherever she was, Katniss felt it was similar to the capitol. The suited observers who peered mockingly through the glass were no different than her prep team every time they assembled her for an appearance on camera. Every digit of her existence was theirs to consume. While once this prospect filled her with rage and spurred negative emotions, Katniss now felt almost comforted by this familiar examination.

Strangely, Katniss noted that none of the watchers looked at all extraordinary. All wore plain suits and bore no signs of tattoos or dye. Evidently though they behaved like capitol citizens, these people were from somewhere else. Katniss strained to glimpse their features and possibly identify a district, but she was unsuccessful. Their faces were masked in gloom beyond the glass.

 _...Skilled in Archery, Survival, Propoganda, and Tactics._

Katniss almost laughed. Propoganda? She could remember the struggles of her film crew attempting to spread their vision of the Mockingjay. She did not feel like she had made it easy for them. Propos were certainly not something she would consider herself skilled at.

Katniss paused and attempted to remember who ' _them'_ was...but drew a blank. She could almost see Prim, Gale and her mother, but everyone from after the Hunger Games was almost nonexistent. She recalled a film crew, but they were faceless and generic. She could remember escaping the Games, but was it once, or twice? Why was Peeta so prominent in her memories, yet confusion-inducing when it came to her thoughts about him? Snippets of the rebellion- assaults, training, pods, a wedding, and death...lots of death. They were all jumbled together in a disastrous mixing pot that made Katniss' head ache.

 _Maybe I'm dead?_ She thought gravely.

 _Unlikely._ Her body responded, sending jolts of pain through the spots where the electric restraints touched her skin.

Suddenly a door appeared in the wall to Katniss' left, and a tall, gaunt woman with her hair drawn up into a tight blond bun entered the white chamber.

 _Survival._ Katniss thought. _Cooperation and survival._

The woman explained a long list of protocol points which could be summed up with _We'll take your restraints off if you behave._

Katniss consented obediently, nervously reaching for the brown braid that trailed over her shoulder the instant the bonds were switched off.

"Follow me." The stern woman stated coldly, leading Katniss out of the little white room. How long she had been in there, she had no idea.

After a few steps, the woman turned back and eyed her curiously, as though examining her once again. "I am taking you to the commanders' chamber, where you will be briefed by the commanders themselves, and introduced to your new comrades. Everything will become clear."

"Comrades?" Katniss wondered aloud.

The blond woman said nothing, and proceeded to turn briskly and stalk off down the dark hallways.

"Here I go again." she muttered to herself, jogging to catch up with her captor/scientist's long strides.


	3. Part 3- Hermione

_Hermione Granger, Witch, Graduate of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry._

Panic filled Hermione's mind.

 _Eyes: Brown. Hair: Golden-Brown._

The kind that comes from someone knowing everything there is to know about you.

 _Five foot, five inches. One hundred sixty-five centimetres. One hundred twenty-six pounds. Fifty-seven kilograms._

It was as though the people-through-the-glass were occlumens, attacking her mind and body for information. Without her wand, she felt barren and defenseless. She couldn't feel its presence at all. It certainly was not in the grey jumpsuit someone had clothed her in, and was evidently not in the empty white room.

Hermione felt her hands start to shake in terror. Lack of control threatened to overwhelm her. She bit her lip in an effort to remain calm. She strained at the odd beams of light that held her wrists, abdomen, and ankles. They burned faintly against her skin.

She tried to figure out what the last thing she could remember was...she could recall Harry chucking the elder wand off the bridge outside Hogwarts, but that seemed the last moment in her life's history. She could have sworn she had done more. Yet her mind was empty. Strangely the only memories clear to her brain were those that had occurred at Hogwarts. Her friends' faces were clear in every moment which they donned their Gryffindor robes, but her life was apparently empty in every instance outside the school. What did her parents look like? Hermione could not seem to remember.

Anyhow, she had no idea where she was nor how she had gotten there. Her panic returned swiftly. Only three things were certain to her in that moment. First, her wand was gone. Presumably confiscated by the suited people-through-the-glass. Second, everything that the women was reading from the electronic tablet was true. Third, a door had just appeared in the wall on Hermione's left. It seemed to have been conjured by magic, yet neither of the two individuals that passed through it carried wands.

The arrivals were twins, a girl and a boy, both fairly stout with short black hair and pixie-like faces. They introduced themselves as Kelly and Kirk...oddly suitable names for their appearances.

"We can trust you, right? You won't run?" Kelly squealed, finger poised to tap the device on her wrist.

Kirk glared at her, looking like he might slap her across the face. "Protocol, Kelly! Stop acting so _unprofessional_!"

Hermione squirmed in the uncomfortable chair and grimaced. "I won't run. Just _please_ get these bonds off!"

Kirk stared at Hermione for a second, as though gauging her truthfullness, then nodded solemnly to Kelly, who tapped her wrist enthusiastically.

The light-bonds receded instantly, and Hermione smiled shallowly at Kelly in gratitude. In response the woman swooped in and hoisted her to her feet, grabbing her by the arm.

"Calm down, Kelly." Kirk grumbled.

Kelly giggled happily, guiding Hermione out the door. "But we're saving the world! Everyone says so!"

"The end of the world is no laughing matter, you nit-wit." Kirk answered with a roll of his eyes.

"But there won't _be_ an end of the world because she's here!" Kelly exclaimed, waving Hermione's arm around.

Hermione was puzzled, but said nothing and just listened, hoping some form of understanding would emerge.

The twins continued to banter, one stading on either side, until they arrived at a staircase.

Kelly let go of Hermione's arm and urged her forward. "Up you go! Your destiny awaits!"

Hermione remained frozen in place, feeling unable to move. She stood transfixed on the first step, rooted by her confusion and disorientation.

For a long moment she waited soundless, for some indication of pressure to go on. She would have stayed there forever had it not been for an almost inaudible gasp which escaped Kelly's lips.

"Oh! I almost forgot! Your wand!" she buzzed, reaching into her jacket and pulling out a long, wand-sized cannister. She handed the tube to Hermione.

More confused than ever, Hermione took the cannister. "There must be some mis-"

"Not at all, sweetheart. The wand's inside. But you can't have it until you've been briefed by the commanders. So get up there, before they break for dinner." Kirk suggested with a hint of a smile.

Hermione shut her mouth and clutched the tube tightly. She turned to ascend the stairs- if for nothing else, to get her wand back.


	4. Part 4- Tauriel

_Tauriel of Middle Earth, Silvan Elf, Captain of the Elven Guard._

 _Eyes: Green. Hair: Auburn._

 _Five foot, five inches. One hundred sixty-five centimetres. One hundred twenty-three pounds. Fifty-six kilograms._

Tauriel had never seen so much white in one place...not even in a snowstorm. Nor had she ever sat in a chair so uncomfortable. Unarmed and clothed in strange garb unlike anything she had ever seen in Middle-Earth, she felt like a cornered animal, chained up with light-rope and awaiting slaughter.

Through a clear wall three strides in front of her, Tauriel saw bug-like humans in grey suits eyeing her curiously.

 _Perhaps this is a dream, and Legolas will wake me soon for the morning hunt._

A dream, yes, that's what this had to be. Where Tauriel had conjured such a strange place from, though, she was unsure. A white box of a room...clothing of the strangest variety...and a cruel metal chair. Oddly enough, Tauriel tried to remember what she had last eaten and could not. All she could remember about her recent actions was fighting in the Battle of the Five Armies...

 _What ever have I eaten to bring about such a dream?_

Tauriel's mind continued to tease her. A circular door opened up on her left, with no rhyme or reason whatsoever. The doorway just appeared, like a gaping black hole eating away at the white walls. Someone stood beyond the scope of her vision, obscured by shadows on the other side of the doorway. A woman, from the appearance of their faint silhouette.

The woman paused for a moment, as though for effect.

 _Some sort of sign! She must represent something. I'll have to pay attention._ Tauriel mused in her mind.

Suddenly the silhouette stepped into the harsh light of the white room, and was a silhouette no longer. The stranger was revealed to be a tall woman in a fitted grey jumpsuit identical to Tauriel's own. She had fiery red hair that dipped to the bottom of her jawline, and piercing blue eyes. From her serious expression and clenched jaw, Tauriel guessed that she meant business.

 _Maybe she represents my conscience, and she is about to tell me to go out and map those new trails I've been meaning to walk by the river..._

The dream-woman spoke.

"I'm Commander Romanoff. Welcome, Tauriel of Middle-Earth."

Tauriel glared at her questioningly, her brows furrowed.

"You do speak English, right?" Romanoff prodded, marching over to Tauriel's side. The Commander crouched down to her level, and met Tauriel's green gaze with her own icy blue one.

"Yes." Tauriel answered hesitantly, not daring to look away. "This isn't real." she added quickly, not bothering to hide her disbelief from the strange woman.

Romanoff continued to look at her quizzically, particularly at the side of her head, at her...ears?

"Why do you stare?" Tauriel asked the dream Commander.

"I've never met an elf before."

"Well I've never met humans who dress like this-" she responded icily, gesturing to the humans beyond the clear wall, "-either. So we're even."

Romanoff stood up and crossed her arms. "I know this is all very difficult to understand-"

"It doesn't make any sense. But it's okay. Dreams don't often instil great understanding." Tauriel interrupted, smiling a little now despite herself.

 _Arguing with my own dream._

"But that's where you're wrong. This isn't a dream." Romanoff proclaimed.

"Prove it." Tauriel said, raising her eyebrows in visible skepticism.

The Commander was still for a moment, but then she drew a slender knife from a pocket in her left sleeve. Quick as a flash she drew the knife gently across Tauriel's palm, leaving a thin red streak behind. A bead of scarlet blood welled up at the corner of the wound and ran down the side of Tauriel's hand.

Tauriel gawked as she felt the pain of the slash sink in. A superficial wound, to be sure, but evidently a real one.

"Believe me now?" Romanoff said grimly. "Sorry about the cut. I'll have them wrap it for you when we get up to command. Now, if you'll be so kind as to come with me. We have a lot to talk about."


End file.
